Valiant (Gentlemen of the Order #3) - Adele Clee Page 0,67
the painting. As the grandson of a pirate, you knew I would never let anyone steal my bounty.”
“I had to bring you together. I had to make sure you found the treasure, else I would have tossed and turned in my grave for all eternity.”
It was Buchanan’s turn to lose his temper. “So one of ye devil’s broke into the house in Silver Street, made a hell of a mess and left a plague mask to frighten the lass to death.”
An icy chill ran down Vivienne’s spine.
She’d spent sleepless nights waiting for the devil to return.
Fear had taken her to Mr Golding’s office.
Desperation had taken her to Keel Hall.
Mr Golding cradled his head in his hands. “The intruder was the impetus needed to give Miss Hart the courage to visit Mr Sloane.”
Buchanan muttered in Gaelic. “The sooner I get the lass out of this miserable place and back to the Highlands, the better.”
The thought of sitting amongst the heather, of paddling her feet in the burn, seemed so appealing. Tears welled. Sad, that her heart would always belong to the man who might have been her husband.
“Then let us solve these clues, Buchanan, so you can take me home.”
“Aye, lass.”
An awkward silence ensued, made more difficult as she battled her emotions.
“Don’t think for one moment you’re safe now.” The lawyer’s grave comment cut through the stillness. “You must take every precaution. Greed lives in the hearts of men. Find the treasure and then return to me in Long Lane.”
“And why should we trust a word you say?” Evan said bluntly. “Your nephew spends a lot of time at the Old Red Crow, and not just to fill himself with ale. Why not call him in and ask him about his relationship with Bonnie?”
“Because he’s three sheets to the wind and of no use to anyone. But he visits Bonnie to drown his sorrows. Who am I to deny his quest for peace?”
The comment must have resonated because Evan paused for thought.
“Mr Ramsey is an old family friend who knew my father.” The mere mention of the man made Vivienne’s skin crawl. “He also visits Bonnie, and pesters me weekly, insinuating my life would greatly improve if I were his wife. His debts are mounting, as is his need to find the means to pay. Now tell me that is a coincidence, Mr Golding.”
Mr Golding’s chin dropped. He gripped the arms of the chair with his bony fingers and pushed to his feet. “Excuse me a moment while I discuss this with my nephew.”
The second the lawyer left the room Buchanan spouted threats.
“I swear I shall string Ramsey up from the scaffold and let the crows poke at his flabby flesh. Did I nae tell ye, lass, to stop inviting the lech into yer home? And as for that drunken devil upstairs, why I’ll shove his head in a whisky cask and wait till there are nae more bubbles.”
Evan Sloane seemed disinterested in Buchanan’s ramblings. “Miss Hart.” His intense gaze pinned her to the chair. “When I described this unfolding nightmare, I spoke of our frustration. My comment in no way reflected the nature of our relationship.”
Did he have to speak so openly in front of Buchanan? Yes, the man knew they were supposed to marry, but knew nothing of their amorous liaisons.
“Pay it no mind, Mr Sloane. You were right. Mr Golding and his nephew have pushed us to the limits of our patience.”
As if on cue, the shouting started above stairs. She hoped Mr Wicks had stumbled whilst in a drunken stupor, and the loud bang was not him assaulting his uncle.
Evan glanced at the ceiling. “Perhaps I should intervene.”
“It might be prudent.”
Evan pushed to his feet, but the slow plod of footsteps on the stairs made him hesitate.
Flustered, Mr Golding hobbled back into the room. “It seems this Ramsey fellow knows you’ve been to visit me numerous times and has asked Bonnie to probe my nephew for information. He swears he’s told her nothing about the contract or the delicate nature of our business.”
“Bonnie’s a rum old lass. I can tell ye that.” Buchanan grinned. “Aye, she’d have told me anything I needed to know in exchange for a few shillings and my company this evening.”
Mr Wicks was hardly discreet in his drunkenness. Drunken fools had loose tongues. No doubt Bonnie extracted enough information to please Mr Ramsey. After all, Mr Ramsey was the one bringing gifts.
“We must assume Wicks was too inebriated to recall the conversation,” Evan